


Komm Schon Farin, Mach Mich Froh

by Aurea_Aetas



Category: Die Ärzte
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, For the sake of this fic Bela still had the nipple piercing in 2004, Friends With Benefits, I'm so sorry, Implied B/F/R, M/M, Making tea is a love language, RPF, Set during the filming of Die Band die sie Pferd Nannten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurea_Aetas/pseuds/Aurea_Aetas
Summary: Rock Rendezvous is just a joke, right?
Relationships: Bela B/Farin Urlaub
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

The Oberhausen show went off without a hitch: the audience was energetic, their banter was met with applause and laughter, their instruments sounded just right. It was everything a musician could want from a concert, particularly one being professionally recorded. Farin could have slept easily once they made it to their hotel for the night, exhausted as he was, but there was still a persistent thought at the front of his mind that kept him from truly relaxing. He had been able to ignore it during the concert, but now he truly had no choice but to face it.

So, Farin did what he always did when he was troubled: he made tea. The generic brands the hotel provided didn’t even bear considering, but he was no novice. He always had a box of his own stashed away in one of his bags, and the familiarity helped ease his mind some as it steeped in a mug emblazoned with the hotel’s logo.

Tea in hand, he sat down at the small table in the corner of the room. He stared into his mug more than he drank from it, as if the herbal blend would somehow give him the answers he sought. 

The incident in question occurred near the end of their set. Rock Rendezvous was always fun to perform, of course. The improvisation kept the audience on their toes, changing over the years just as they themselves did. This time had been different beyond just the lyrics, though it wouldn’t have been immediately apparent to the crowd. He himself hadn’t even noticed the _pressing issue_ until it was impossible to ignore.

Bela had been hard, his leather-clad erection sliding against Farin’s ass as he “mounted” him at the end of the song. They had both laughed at the absurdity of it all at the time, just two men roughhousing like they were half their age. 

He had known Bela for decades and, sure, they embraced, kissed, and groped each other openly, but they were friends. Perhaps it wasn’t what _most_ friends did, but it was always what _they_ did—to provoke, to shock, but mostly just to let the other know he was loved. Joking about it was only fair game. The fans were just going to make assumptions about it anyway. 

But could it even be considered a joke anymore?

The more Farin considered it, the more he understood. The moment Bela pressed his hard cock against his ass, it stopped being a joke. It had made his heart beat against his chest harder than the usual adrenaline rush of a concert, and he felt dizzy as Bela returned to his drum set, acting as cool and collected as he always did. Looking back, all their banter looked more like flirting now than anything else—even more than usual. Farin had _enjoyed_ it. 

He’d thought about testing the boundaries of their playful grabbing more than once. He would never have dared to act on it before, but now that Bela had made the first move the decision was simple. It wasn’t a sudden realization, necessarily. He would have to be blind to not know Bela was handsome. He would never describe his feelings as _romantic,_ of course. They were simply _erotic_ —and friends fucked each other all the time, right?

His tea was cold by the time he dumped it into the sink, only lamenting the waste for a moment before he left his room. 

Bela’s room was down the hall from his; Not too far away, but far enough that Farin had plenty of time to second guess himself. Endorphins had a strange effect on the body. Perhaps it meant nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. At least if it turned out to be all his imagination he could play it off as another one of their jokes, even if they were the only ones around to witness it. 

Before he even realized it, he was knocking on Bela’s door. He jumped a bit when the door swung open almost immediately, revealing his friend in scarcely more than a pair of pajama pants that hung low on his hips. He had very clearly just showered: his hair, still damp, stuck up at odd angles and his skin glistened with residual moisture. A drop of water slowly slid down his neck, and Farin wanted nothing more than to lick it away. 

“Ah, Farin! I thought you were room service,” Bela explained with a laugh, pulling Farin out of his impure thoughts. The laugh only made the knot of desire in his stomach tighten. His carefree attitude was reflected in that laugh, just as joyful as it had been when they first met—perhaps even more so now. Farin felt himself smiling along with him. 

“I suppose I could go to the corner store and grab you a kebab, if you’re that desperate for a midnight snack,” Farin teased, falling back into their usual banter easily. Anything he had been worried about in his hotel room was quickly forgotten. Bela had that effect. 

“Kebabs this late at night? No way, I ordered a salad,” Bela replied, moving away from the doorway to allow Farin entrance into his room. He could already see that he had made himself at home, clothes and magazines strewn about in a manner that was frankly impressive considering they had only checked in that morning. Stepping inside the room, Farin could hardly hear the slam of the heavy hotel door closing behind him over the beat of his heart.

“So what brings—“ Bela didn’t have time to finish his inquiry, as Farin cupped his face in his hands and kissed him. He was tense at first, caught off guard by his friend’s straightforward approach. His surprise didn’t last long, though, and Farin felt those deceptively strong arms wrapping around him for the second time that night as Bela responded to the kiss. 

It was wholly unlike the affectionate pecks they’d shared in the past. This was all desire, from both parties. Bela gave as much as he received, their mouths working together like they’d been doing this for years. 

“Bela,” he sighed as he pulled away—but not so far, as their lips still brushed faintly as he spoke. “Yes, Farin?” Bela asked, sounding more than just a little breathless. Whether it was from the kiss or the anticipation, Farin couldn’t tell. 

“I want you to fuck me.” He answered, and the sound Bela made in response was more animal than human. He practically lept into Farin’s arms to pull him into another kiss. There wasn’t a part of them not touching each other, their bodies molded together as much as their mouths were, and Farin could feel the insistent press of Bela’s cock against his own. He couldn’t resist pushing his hips forward and grinding against the shorter man, denim against cotton creating delicious friction. 

After what felt like hours, but was certainly only minutes, Farin allowed himself to be lead backwards toward the bed, following his drummer’s lead as he had so many times in the past. Bela broke the kiss as the back of Farin’s legs made contact with the bed, and he was prepared for Bela to push him backwards into the mattress and ravish him, but that never came. Instead, Bela spoke. 

“Was what you said tonight true?” He asked, his hands sliding beneath the black t-shirt Farin always wore—simply feeling the skin of his waist, going no further upwards or downwards. Farin shivered at the touch regardless, quickly regaining his composure to answer his friend’s question. 

“What, that Rod and I blow each other? I could show you if you’re that curious,” He suggested, running his tongue along a grin that showed too many teeth. Overcompensating with humor, as he often did. 

“You know what I mean.” Bela replied, rolling his eyes. Farin wasn’t going to get away with his deflection so easily. The drummer had always been able to see through his bullshit. “Have you ever been _fucked_?” He clarified, not without some hint of lechery in his voice. 

Farin had been with men before, of course, but in all his 41 years he’d never quite gotten around to being on the receiving end of things. He simply hadn’t wanted to, until his friend had gotten involved in the equation. Now he wanted nothing else, and he wasn’t about to let something insignificant like _inexperience_ stop him. 

“It was true,” he admitted, feeling his face heat up at the embarrassment of being called out. He added after a moment, a bit more confidently: “Does that change your mind?”

“Quite the opposite in fact, my friend,” Bela answered with waggle of his eyebrows, his voice going into the low octave that he seemed to think was seductive—as if Farin was someone who needed to be wooed, as if he hadn’t gotten enough from the teasing on stage.

He certainly couldn’t have that. As much as he had joked on stage, he didn’t need Bela to be gentle, in fact, he needed the opposite.

In an instant, Farin was the one pressing Bela into the mattress instead, straddling his hips as he looked up at him in aroused bewilderment. “Don’t take me for some blushing virgin though, _my friend,”_ He stated, mimicking the sultry tone Bela had taken as he hooked his finger into the hoop of the man’s nipple piercing. He gave it a gentle tug, and Bela arched toward it with a shuddering breath.

“Noted.” He agreed with a nod as he gripped the flimsy hotel bed sheets beneath him.

“Good!” Farin grinned, sliding his finger out of the hoop, but not before giving it a twist—just to get a rise out of the drummer. 

Bela yelped, smacking Farin firmly on the arm. “Asshole!” All Farin did in response was wink, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. They were on more or less even ground, then, his hands sliding down Bela’s tattooed torso to get to the waistline of his pajama pants. 

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, he could tell that they had an all-over pattern of Homer Simpson. Were they tacky? Absolutely. But they were so unashamedly _Bela_. It would have been endearing in any other situation, but in that moment they were just another layer between Farin and what he wanted—an impossibly thin layer, at that. They had to go. Bela seemed to be on the same page, as he was quick to get rid of his pajama pants himself, shimmying them down his legs before finally kicking them away.

Farin’s eyebrows raised in pleasant surprise as he finally got a good look at Bela’s cock as it stood proud in the low light of the hotel room. It was perfectly proportionate to the man it belonged to: not overly thick or long, but more than a handful. 

“You really didn’t give yourself enough credit on stage,” He remarked, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. There was nothing small about it, but he knew that much already. They had seen each other naked countless times before, and even soft it was nothing to scoff at. 

“Keep flattering me and it’ll all go to my head, you know,” Bela replied, propping himself up on his elbows. He watched, mesmerized, as Farin began stroking him.

“That was the intention,” Farin said without missing a beat, meeting Bela’s gaze with a wink. The laugh that bubbled from Bela’s throat was cut short as Farin took his cock into his mouth, a startled gasp quick to replace it. Now, he may not have blown _Rod_ before, but he _did_ have experience giving head. He knew he had a big mouth, and it didn’t just help with singing.

Farin felt himself salivate as he bobbed his head, taking Bela deeper into his throat on each downstroke. The sounds Bela made encouraged him to move even further down, until his nose was buried in the neat nest of pubes at the base of his cock. He swallowed around him with a moan before he pulled back, beginning a steady pace that didn’t quite go that deep again. If Bela wanted it, he would have to take it himself.

And oh, he took it.

Bela had fallen back against the mattress and was gripping handfuls of Farin’s still-styled hair, tugging but not pulling him away—Simply guiding him, thrusting himself further down Farin’s throat with each pump of his hips.

Farin would have been more than content to keep blowing Bela, to swallow his load, but they weren’t exactly young men anymore. If he wanted to get fucked tonight he would have to set that thought aside for another time. And there _would_ be another time. He pulled away with an obscene slurp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Had enough already?” The drummer asked, reaching down to stroke himself teasingly. His hand glid easily along his length, slick with saliva as it was. Farin felt his own cock twitch at the sight.

“I figured it was my turn,” He replied as he sat back up, cupping himself through his jeans for emphasis. He’d been hard since he first stepped into the hotel room, but it was getting increasingly harder to ignore.

“I suppose fair is fair.” Bela agreed, sliding himself further down on the bed to properly settle between Farin’s legs. Grabbing his hips, he used his full body weight to flip their positions, leaving Farin where he was only seconds before.

Taking his pants off required a bit more coordination than Bela’s pajamas: buttons and zippers to be undone and while they weren’t tight like the drummer favored, they still required Bela to pull them all the way down his legs—boxers and all—and when he got there, Farin remembered he was still wearing his shoes. He had been so caught up in the moment when he came into the room that he hadn’t even thought about taking them off. Until then, he hadn’t had time to.

Bela sat on the edge of the bed, untying Farin’s laces just enough to pull them off along with the rest of the singer’s clothes. Now that he finally had Farin naked, he got off the bed and crossed the room, chuckling at the groan of frustration he let out—payback for teasing him earlier, undoubtedly.

“The suspense makes it more worth it in the end,” Bela called out in a sing-song voice, digging through one of his bags and retrieving a condom and a tube of lube. Farin knew he wasn’t the great casanova that some thought he was, but he couldn’t fault him for being prepared. 

“We’ve had 20 years of suspense. I’m done with _suspense_.” Farin said, spreading his long legs in an invitation for Bela to return to the bed.

Bela crawled back onto the mattress, setting down his supplies nearby for later. He kissed his way back up Farin’s legs until he was settled comfortably between them. He kissed him again, though this time was it was considerably less rushed than their previous kisses. The passion was still there, deep and all-encompassing, but they finally had each other where they wanted them. Farin’s hands started on Bela’s shoulders, but slowly made their way down the expanse of his back until he was grabbing his ass, pulling him forward once again to grind their hips together. 

Bela moaned, parting from the kiss to nip at Farin’s lower lip before starting to move downward, leaving kisses and small bites along his jaw and neck—nothing that would leave a mark where others could see. He repeated his all the way down to Farin’s shoulder before he made his way back up, nipping at his earlobe before he spoke a simple request:

“Roll over.”

Farin complied faster than he’d ever done before, propping himself up on his hands and knees and waiting for the inevitable. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Bela retrieved the lube, the pop of the cap opening practically echoing in the stillness of the room.

He moaned as he felt the first slick finger press against his hole, pushing in slowly. He’d never been fucked, but he would be lying if he said he’d never experimented with his fingers before, so the feeling wasn’t entirely foreign to him. Knowing it was Bela made it all the easier to endure. 

A second finger followed shortly after, exploring as much as it was stretching him. Bela thrust the fingers in different angles and speeds, until one thrust finally landed where he sought: directly against Farin’s prostate. 

He gasped, gripping the sheets beneath him with white knuckles as Bela repeated the action, hoping to draw as many sounds out of him as possible. He didn’t hit his prostate each time, but it was often enough to leave Farin a quivering mess, his arms shaking and struggling to keep him upright. At some point a third finger was added, and his arms finally gave out, leaving him facedown in the cheap hotel sheets. Seemingly the only thing keeping the rest of him upright was the hand Bela had on his hip, holding him tightly.

“Now, Bela, _now_ ,” He begged, all formality thrown out the window. His cock was hard and leaking between his legs, the attack on his prostate bringing him dangerously close to the edge already. Even the slightest brush against his cock would have been enough to get him off.

“Yes, Farin, _Yes_ ,” Bela placated as he withdrew his fingers wiped them off on the sheets, bemused by his friend’s desperation. He opened the condom wrapper, rolling it onto himself with a soft groan. Meanwhile, Farin took the moment’s reprieve to compose himself, pushing his hair back as much as he could and sitting back up properly. 

It was only another moment before Bela was back behind him, hands on his hips and his cock sliding against his ass like he’d done earlier that night. Only this time it was all real, truly the only thing separating them being the thin barrier of the condom. They were doing this, and the thought sent a wave of electricity down his spine. 

As thorough as Bela had been with his fingers, nothing prepared Farin for the sensation of his blunt cockhead pressing against his hole. It was one thing to hold it in his hand, even easier still to take it into his mouth, but his ass? That was unexplored territory entirely. It thrilled him as much as it worried him.

Farin shivered as Bela squirted more lube, directly onto his hole this time, pulling him out of his own mind once again. "Hurry up," He groaned, his patience growing thin.

Bela didn’t need any more convincing than that. He’d been waiting just as long as Farin, after all. He wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, steadying himself as he finally pushed into him slowly. Farin let out a small whine of a moan, unable to keep it in as Bela bottomed out inside of him. The stretch was undeniable, but not necessarily painful.

Bela stayed like that for a moment, moaning as he luxuriated in the feeling of Farin squeezing him just right. He then began a steady pace, deep but slow. Farin pushed his hips back to meet every movement, giving as much as he was receiving. He could feel the other man’s blunt nails digging into his hips, the thought that they would leave a mark thrilling him.

Bela sped up more with each thrust, until he truly was fucking Farin like he had demonstrated on stage—frantic and almost impossible for Farin to keep up with. He always marveled at Bela’s seemingly endless supply of energy, but now he was particularly grateful for it.

Bela’s pelvis slapped against Farin’s ass with each strong thrust, adding to the cacophony of their fucking: from the combination of Bela’s unashamed grunts and groans to Farin’s more subdued moans, the creaking of the box spring beneath them, the slam of the headboard against the wall.

The drummer leaned over him, chest to back to get as close to his ear as he could with their size difference. “How does that feel?” He asked with a smirk, his voice thick with lust. He reached beneath their colliding bodies to take Farin’s cock into his hand, somehow managing to stroke it in time with his relentless thrusts.  
  
“So good, Bela, _yes_ ,” Farin replied with a fervent nod. His whole body was alight with passion, every neuron in his brain firing off at once. He didn’t know whether to push back against Bela’s cock, or forwards toward his fist. It bordered on too much, but also wasn’t nearly enough.

Though he had been relatively quiet compared to his partner, Farin found himself moaning louder as he grew closer to his release. His moans increased in both pitch and volume, nearly drowning out Bela’s own exclamations. 

His vision went white as he came, his mind going utterly blank as his release was wrung from him. Bela kept fucking him, still jerking him off longer after he’d stopped coming. It was the overstimulation that brought him back to himself, but he didn’t want it to stop. He never wanted it to stop.

He could feel Bela’s rhythm starting to falter, and he briefly marveled that could even happen to drummers given the right circumstance. “Come on, Bela. I want you to come,” He urged, his throat raw. He felt him shiver in response, finally letting go of his softening cock to grab his hip again. Farin braced himself, knowing that the drummer could truly destroy him if he wanted to.

Bela was solely focused on his own release, then—No more finesse to his movements, no longer trying to hit Farin’s prostate, just running on pure base instincts. The ache was already beginning to set into Farin’s muscles, but in that moment he didn’t care. He wanted nothing more than to be used for his friend’s pleasure. 

Bela came with a hoarse shout, pushing himself as deep into Farin as he could manage. He buried his face in the singer’s back as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, his moans turning to whimpers and sighs. 

They stayed like that for several long minutes—Farin in a glorified table pose and Bela atop him like a baby monkey—simply catching their breath and letting the world come back around them. 

Eventually, though, Bela pulled out and Farin flopped gracelessly onto the mattress, making a face as he landed directly in the cooling puddle of his own release. Still, he made no effort to move, perfectly content to stay there until he could feel his limbs again. Vaguely he was aware of Bela moving around the hotel room, and he knew he should probably get up and return to his own. Before he could do that, though, Bela was crawling back onto the bed, with an all too cheerful “Oh, Farin~”

Farin rolled himself over with a grunt, and was surprised to find Bela holding a mug of tea out for him. He sat up, suppressing a wince, and took the offered mug. Though it was the same generic brand he had snubbed before, he swore he’d never tasted anything better.

  
  



	2. Jung und Gut Gebaut

Rod sighed in relief as the noise from next door came to an end, his bandmates seeming to settle down for the night. No more beds banging against the thin wall between them, no more shouts of passion. Just post-coital bliss. And bliss for Rod, as well, now that he could actually get to sleep. 

He had known it was only a matter of time before the two worked things out between them—it had been literal decades in the making, after all. The tension was bound to break eventually. He was just surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

He was happy for them, really, but did they really have to do it while he was next door?

The least they could do was invite him next time. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me at my tumblr, wildeoscars.


End file.
